“It is a fact.”
“Which one of us here is the scientist?”
Sebastian glared at her. “What’s your point?”
“Genetics don’t work that way. One of the greatest threats to the witch clan is inbreeding. The elders’ rules are exactly what will do us in as a race, and trying to keep us from mixing with mortals smacks of racism to me.”
“We’re not exactly a race, you know. It’s more than that.”
“No, it isn’t. Just like with any other ethnic group, our abilities are all in our genetic coding.”
“How can our powers not get diluted if we mate with mortals?”
“For one thing, we’ll introduce much-needed diversity into our gene pool. Gene pools become increasingly unpredictable as diversity decreases. That’s how we manage to have a witch as powerful as Corinne, but it’s also how we have fools as useless as our cousin Teal.”
“So you think you can reduce the explanation of our supernatural powers to something as simple as genetic coding just like what makes my hair brown or my eyes green?”
“That’s exactly what it is.”
“That doesn’t make any goddamn sense.”
“We have no way of knowing for sure since we’ve had to hide from the lens of modern science.”
“So have you been secretly researching this stuff or something?”
In her dreams. Lauren had originally gone into medical research hoping that someday she’d be able to help the world understand witches without persecuting them. But so far, she’d been sidetracked by other projects, like the sexual dumbing-down effect study.
“I’ve played around a little on my own, studying my own DNA, but I have never done any real research. It’s too risky under the current circumstances, and I don’t have the support of the elders or the funding that would go along with that support.”
“I don’t suppose the elders are going to be able to keep us hidden from science forever.”
“After the uprising, I think I might dedicate my career to helping mortals understand witches through science.”
“It’s a noble goal, but you may not even be around for the uprising if you continue with Carson.”
Lauren stared out at the cypress trees lining the lawn, and a feeling of intense sadness overcame her. She couldn’t see the way forward from here. She’d somehow survived sure death on the beach, and now, her family would kill her unless she stayed away from Carson.
Sebastian wasn’t saying it, but they’d likely kill Carson, too.
She couldn’t be the cause of his life being threatened again. If she really cared about him, she had to get the hell away from him for good.
A car went by, and she understood what she was facing now. Saying goodbye to everything she loved—San Francisco, her friends, her job, her family…and Carson. She would have to leave it all behind and start a new life somewhere else.
“Promise me something, okay?” she said to Sebastian. “I’m only going to ask you for this one thing, and if you love me, you’ll do it.”
Sebastian regarded her seriously. “I can’t say yes until you tell me what it is.”
“Protect Carson after I’m gone. Witch blood does flow through his veins, you know.”
Her cousin was silent for a while, and then he nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”
18
THREE WEEKS HAD PASSED since Carson had watched Lauren get shot on the beach, and he tried to tell himself he was moving on. He was lying.
He’d tried researching new careers on the Internet. He’d gotten a Peace Corps application and filled it out, but he’d never submitted it. And he’d contemplated spending a year at a yoga ashram in India. Nothing quite sounded like the right thing to do.
And then one day he’d been walking along the docks in Sausalito, and he’d spotted a little yacht for sale. He decided on the spot to buy it. He’d had some vague idea he could live in the thing and sail around the world, but mostly he sat on the deck watching the fog roll in, and he brooded.
But today there was no fog. It was one of those perfect crystal blue San Francisco days when the water sparkled like diamonds and sailboats of every color crowded the bay. Carson sat in his usual spot on the deck, feeling as though he should have been doing something. The sunshine did have a vague energizing effect, and the Elmore Leonard novel he’d been reading wasn’t quite cutting it for a satisfying activity.
Maybe he’d sail out to the Farallon Islands and watch for whales, or head down the coast, or…
“Hey,” a female voice said.
Carson looked up, and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of Lauren standing on the dock.
She smiled. “Can I come aboard?”
He dropped his book on the deck and was off the boat in a split second. “You’re okay,” he said dumbly as he took her into his arms and pulled her to him.
“I am,” she said. “I am.”
And then they were kissing. Desperate, hungry kisses that weren’t quite satisfying enough, because he needed all of her at once, not just her mouth, not just her tongue. He lifted her up as they kissed, and then he thought of her chest wound.
“Oh shit,” he muttered, setting her back down. “Am I hurting you?”
She laughed. “I’m okay—witches heal faster than humans. You can manhandle me as much as you want.”
He held her at arm’s length and let his gaze linger on her then, taking in every detail. She looked more beautiful than ever, if a bit paler than usual. She wore a black sundress that hugged her torso and exposed her angular shoulders, and tiny black thong sandals that exposed only a small scar on her foot where before a bandage had been.
“I never thought I’d get to see you again. Thank you for coming here, but…is it safe?”
She shook her head. “I can only stay for a little while. I wanted to see you before I left,” she said, and something about her voice changed.
Her smile disappeared, and so did his.
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you,” she said. “But I thought you deserved to know I’m okay, and I owe you a face-to-face apology for all the danger I put you in. I’m so sorry, Carson.”
“No, you don’t need to apologize.”
She said nothing, then eyed the yacht. “Is this yours?”
He nodded. “I was thinking about sailing around the world or something, but I guess I haven’t quite mustered the energy yet.”
“Macy told me. She sounded worried about you, which is part of the reason I wanted to see you myself.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m fine. Just trying to figure out what to do with myself since I quit my job.”
She frowned. “Why did you?”
“I’m done being an advertising whore.”
“Good for you. I’m sure you’ll find your calling eventually. Just give yourself some time to figure it out.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Want to show me around the boat?”
“Sure, come on board,” he said, hopping onto the deck himself, then extending a hand to help Lauren aboard.
“Down here’s the bed,” he said, smiling as he motioned to the stairway.
“Oh?” She smiled. “We’d better not go there then.”
“Not even once more for old times’ sake?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that to you again.”
“Hey, to be honest, the withdrawal symptoms weren’t that bad,” he lied.
“I’m glad, but I also have strict orders from my doctor—no sexual intercourse for another few weeks.”
“Wow, that’s brutal.”
She shrugged. “It hasn’t been an issue since we’ve been apart.”
“Could I maybe, just, you know, go down on you? One last time?”
Lauren laughed. “You’re relentless.”
He closed the distance between them and took her into his arms again. Then he kissed her with all the desperate, pent-up passion he felt. When th
ey finally broke the kiss, he asked, “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but he took her hand and led her below deck and into his bedroom.
She tried to protest as he eased her back onto the bed, but he said, “Please, just this once.”
Then he stretched out beside her, careful not to let the weight of his body rest on her torso, and kissed her again, this time more slowly.
He wanted to memorize every inch of her, commit the taste and feel of her to his memory so permanently he would never forget a single detail. Because if she was going to be an addiction that he could never have, then the memory of her would have to be his cure. She smelled like a tropical flower, and her skin was so soft and warm, it reminded him of Caribbean water.
He tugged her dress down and tasted her breasts, then paused to kiss the jagged red scar on her chest. He traced it gently with his fingers and memorized it too. She buried her fingers in his hair and squirmed against him, and he knew when he dipped his fingers into her panties, he’d find her soaking wet.
Then he lowered himself, pulled off her panties, and spread her legs wide, memorizing again her delicious pink folds. When he kissed her there, and inhaled her perfect scent, he almost cried. This was as good as it would ever be, as good as it was going to get.
LAUREN SHOULD HAVE protested, but the truth was that she was as addicted to Carson as he would ever be to her. As he licked her and touched her, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm, she felt her eyes grow damp. She didn’t want to say goodbye to him. She wanted to stay here in his bed forever.
He knew how to work her body, and as he touched her in all the right places, she was able, for a little while, to forget. And she gave in to the pleasure one last time. She came hard against his mouth, crying out, gasping, grinding herself against him as the waves of pleasure washed over her.
Then she was still. Catching her breath. He was kissing her belly. Reality intruded again.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I hope you’re going to let me return the favor.”
“Are you sure your doctor would okay it?”
She smiled at him. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t say anything about oral sex.”
But he sensed that her mood had changed, and when she tried to sit up, he slid up next to her again and held her in place. “We don’t have to say goodbye, you know.”
She closed her eyes against their stinging. “Carson, please don’t. You know the deal.”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you fill me in?”
“I mean, you know I’m bad for you, and that people in my world would never accept our relationship. It’s just easier if we say goodbye now.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve decided it’s best if I leave the country and stay hidden for a while. I’m too easy a target—for The Order and other witches. I’ll be needed when it’s time for the uprising to begin.”
“Let me go with you,” he said.
“I just told you why that won’t work,” she said. “Please don’t make it harder than it already is.”
But some little voice inside her wanted to rebel and told her to hear him out.
“I can leave the country with you. There’s nothing keeping me here. I’ll help you with the uprising. I don’t give a damn what your relatives think, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Carson, not only is my life in danger because of The Order, but also the witch clan has a death order on me if I’m caught with a mortal again. They’ll kill you, too, if we’re found out.”
His expression went grim, and he was silent for a while. Lauren felt unwelcome tears building in her eyes. She blinked them away.
Finally, he said, “I have been sitting on this damn boat wondering what the point of my life is, and then you appeared. You, the woman who made me feel what it’s like to really be alive.”
“I can’t put you in any more danger,” she said.
“Let me choose that. Please. I think it’s my purpose in life now to protect you, to be the human voice for your cause. When your family sees that I can help, they won’t want to kill me.”
She shook her head, but his words reminded her of the growing feeling she had. The more she thought about the uprising, the more she knew that they would need the help of the mortal world. They just couldn’t do it alone.
“We’ll go away together until it’s time for the uprising to begin. Let me be with you. I don’t even have a life here anymore. I might as well be dead if you’re not in it.”
Suddenly, she was finding it hard to breathe.
“Why would you want to help?”
He looked at her seriously. “Because I love you. Because, when I thought you might be dead, I couldn’t find any reason to go on living. I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than giving us a chance to be together.”
Lauren tried to come up with an argument against his words. She was supposed to be protecting him now, not getting him into even more trouble. But…he loved her.
“I love you, too,” she said, because she couldn’t stop herself.
And she did. Enough to defy the elders’ order. Enough to not stand in the way of what he felt was his destiny. Her intuition was screaming that it was the right thing to do.
Then she remembered the vow she’d made to herself when she’d awoken from the coma, that she’d never live in fear again.
He leaned in and kissed her gently again, then said, “Let me go with you. Let me help.”
“Okay,” she whispered, letting go of the last vestige of fear. “Come with me.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0190-7
CALL ME WICKED
Copyright © 2007 by Jamie Sobrato.
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